Cold air combs my hair; it turns my nose to ice,
I remember those days, filled with the warmth of vice,
There was hardly sunshine, but there was wind,
Energy that flows from the earth to kiss our skin,

The bricks crumble as they hold up our lives,
Like bees selling honey to mortgage their hives,
Glass lets us cut into the lives of those we ignore,
Instead of seeking entry through their front door,

Dishes pile as we breathe and conspire,
Entwined in our bed; this lust is dire,
Our minds drift to forests, where fairies dwell,
Green covers all life, animating this sweet dell,

Walking upon moss that sponges and frays,
Sipping the sweet smell of wild floral bouquets,
Stopping to drink the water that drips and drops,
Hushing as we see the lone bunny hip and hop,

Hand in hand, we are borne into movement,
Solace warms our soul in this anagogic ascent,
We rise above the earth’s vibrating energies,
Forward and returned like the tides of the bluest seas,

We make our own warmth as we urge, together, on,
Awaiting the sweet, milky skies that precede dawn,
If our hands are cold, our spirits are tenderly anchored,
Swimming for an eternity, finally reaching the shore,